Forget Your Past and Embrace Your Future
by Dean'sNerdyAngel
Summary: "At first, it's such a shock to Tony he just stares at Bruce, unbelieving. It's not possible. There is no way that this little boy is Tony Stark from when he was six years old." Loki brings Tony from the past to the future. It goes as well as you might expect.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: **

**Good God, I've been working on this for awhile. It's a kind of fic that you'll both cry and laugh while reading. Don't kill me yet, I still have one chapter! **

**I am so tempted to do a similar one with little!Clint just for shits and giggles. **

**Warnings: mentions and bruises of earlier child abuse**

**Thanks to Alyssa (constancebonacieoux) for being my beta even as she drives around the Grand Canyon!**

It's not the explosion that wakes Tony up. He's not sure why, but his eyes snap open and he remembers that he's on the couch in the lab, having fallen asleep there for the second night in a row. His first thought is that Steve's going to be pissed at him because he promised to sleep on an actual bed tonight. His second thought was that something wasn't _right. _

His confirmation to that was a loud explosion in the corner, and automatically Tony drops down to the floor and covers his head. It's not the first time there's been a boom in the lab. It comes with the territory. But Tony hadn't been working with anything explosive (that he recalled) and certainly not something that involved green smoke.

"What the fuck?" he said aloud to no one. Slowly, he carefully creeps forward. Dummy chirps alarmingly, his one clawed arm already ready with (dammit) a fire extinguisher. Before Tony can protest, he sprays it around the smoke and that's when Tony notices there's no fire. Not even a spark. Just a very darkened floor sprinkled with green (dust?). As the contents of the extinguisher, there's a sound of a cough. He whips around.

"_Tony! Oh my God, are you all right?" _He can hear Steve from the other side of the glass and waves him over. The access panel beeps and Steve runs in, shield at the ready, taking Tony's face in his hands. "Are you okay? What the hell happened?"

"I honestly have no idea." He frowns. "I was sleeping, I woke up, and this happened. So unless I've gotten the ability to make colorful explosions, I can safely say this wasn't my fault."

"Well, then what caused it?" Steve demanded, but more to himself than anything. He already had his comm unit in his ear. "Natasha, send Bruce down here. Tony's fine, but maybe he can help us figure out what caused this explosion. Any sign of a threat?"

"Nada," Clint answered. "Jarvis says it's all clear, too."

"Sir! I picked up an unknown life form, about 4 meters to your right." Jarvis announced. Both Steve and Tony looked around wildly, searching for an intruder.

It's not what they're expecting. A young boy, pale and sporting a pair of cotton pajama pants and a green sweater, stumbled out from behind a cart. He was holding his head tenderly. "Mom?" he blinked, and then his eyes bulged. "Who are you?"

"Better question is, who are _you?" _Tony asked suspiciously. "How'd you get here, kid?"

"I woke up there!" the boy pointed to the cart again. "I don't even know where _here _is. Did you guys kidnap me?"

"No, we didn't kidnap you." Steve said kindly, just as Bruce ran down.

"What's going on here?" he asked carefully.

"You kidnapped me. Or I'd still be home." His brows furrowed. "My dad said I might be kidnapped if I'm not careful."

"We didn't kidnap you." Tony said, exasperated. "What's your name? We can get you home in a few hours."

The child regarded them with reproach. "My name is Anthony Stark." And then he passed out.

The next four hours were a blur. When things go wrong within the Avengers, Coulson is called first. Once he's called, Fury is notified. Tony is pretty sure Fury is extra furious that he's been awoken from his bed of the blood of people who made fun of his eye (this is not far off from the truth, mind you). So, SHIELD was contacted about the explosion and that there was a boy claiming to be Tony in the Tower. In a flurry of activity and yelling, the team and a still unconscious little boy make their way to a secure SHIELD base in North Dakota. Tony left in his suit, cursing. The rest boarded a quinjet.

Even though Tony could have gotten there a good half hour before the rest, he took his time and by the time he did arrive, Bruce was just finishing up checking a now awake "Anthony Stark" in the medical facility.

He waved pointedly at the scientist and Bruce said something to the boy and quietly left the room.

"Well? Who is it?" Tony demanded.

"Tony-"

"Oh no you don't. Don't even go there. He can't…You can't honestly believe that's…_me." _He protested, glaring.

"Tony, I looked at the DNA results just a bit ago. He's answered every single question correctly. It's you. That is Anthony Stark, prodigy son of Howard Stark, age six."

At first, it's such a shock to Tony he just stares at Bruce, unbelieving. It's not possible. There is no way that this little boy is Tony Stark from when he was six years old.

"He says to call him Anthony since he doesn't know us. I guess he, uh, you only liked to be called Tony by people you know."

And then, it clicks. Because he can recognize himself as a little kid from photos, from newspaper clippings, from everywhere Stark is mentioned in the past. His mouth opens, and then closes. He can't find words.

"Tony?"

"Well, this should be a thrill." He finally managed, looking through the one way glass of the SHIELD medical room. Tiny Tony, or Anthony, was huddled in the thin blanket they'd given him, and while the position was very similar to that of a terrified child, his face was set into a thin line, looking suspiciously around the room. Tony doesn't try to remember his childhood, but he recalls being that age. He remembers being shone into the spotlight, introduced to the public as a child genius. That's when he became the sure legacy of Howard Stark. Or maybe that's when he was four. He's not really sure.

Bruce's hand on his shoulder tightened, and his friend sighed heavily. "Thor says this is time travel work of Loki. See that mark on his wrist?" Tony looked, and found an ink-like marking that was no mistakenly a Jotunheim symbol.

"Magic," Tony said bitterly. "I hate magic."

"Me too." Bruce agreed. "I asked Coulson to arrange for us to bring him back to the Tower."

"Is that a good idea?" he asked, brows furrowing.

"Would you want to stay here?" Bruce snorted, knowing how Tony felt about hospitals.

"No." Tony shook his head, shoulders slumping. "You can deal with that, can't you? I need to…I have to think, you know?"

Bruce merely gave a smile of sympathy and waved him on. Tony left SHIELD medical, assembled his suit, and took off to the skies. The place he could be the freest.

* * *

Bruce didn't know to act with kids. He knew how to be a doctor around them, but not…he wasn't babysitter material. He called Steve to the room, but first he entered himself.

Tony's (_Anthony's, _he remembered) head snapped to him, eyes narrowing. "Mister Bruce?" he said it timidly, testing to see if it was right.

Bruce nodded for him to continue.

"I want to go home. Can you get me home? You said you're my friend, so you can get me home, right?" Anthony went from a nervous and untrusting child to a wide-eyed, hopeful child looking for comfort in home.

"Yes, Anthony, we'll be heading out soon. But there's something you need to know." Bruce said softly, sitting down on the bed by Anthony's legs. Anthony curled his knees up to his chest, looking expectantly. "There was an accident. What's the last thing you remember seeing before you woke up?"

"There was a blue light, and a man in green and black clothing and this helmet that had really, really long horns on the top of it. He said I was going to see the future to see what I become. It was a really weird dream, isn't it?"

It wasn't. But Bruce wasn't exactly sure he could tell the kid he'd actually walked over 30 years into the future by a demigod.

"What kind of _axident_ was it?" Anthony asked, and Bruce could see as clear as day the same curiosity on the adult Tony as he saw now on the young Tony.

"Someone made a mistake, and you were stuck with the consequences."

At this, Anthony's eyes widened and he let out a cry. He started scrambling off the bed, but Bruce caught his arm. Whatever held Anthony grounded since he woke snapped and he tried to kick away from Bruce, twisting and trying to escape from his grip. Bruce certainly didn't want to end up breaking the kid's arm, so he let go grudgingly, and Anthony ran forward, only to run smack into Steve. Anthony raised his head to the man's face, and he could hear the relieved whisper of, "Captain America," and he threw his skinny arms around Steve's waist.

Steve's gaze went from Anthony to Bruce, confused. "What happened?" he mouthed, and Bruce shrugged one shoulder.

"Please don't blame my daddy. He didn't mean to, I swear! He-he just drinks a lot and he says that it's good for thinking and sometimes he drinks too much and my mom says that's _bad _and-" Anthony's voice cut off into a choked sob. "Don't make him angry. Just say it was a…a misunderstanding, Captain America, please!"

"Anthony…"

"He gets mad at me if I'm not careful. I wasn't careful enough. It's my fault, not his. Tell him that, and he won't get angry at me!" Anthony pleaded, clinging tightly to Steve. Bruce was at a loss. Tony hadn't told him much about Howard, or his childhood. All he knew that Howard wasn't a top model father and they didn't have much of a relationship up to the day he died. But this was a different reaction entirely. A kid wouldn't act so desperately defensive of his father unless he was protecting himself from something. It didn't take a genius to know what. Anger shot through him, and the Hulk stirred, growling and furious, but he took a breath and slipped past Steve and Anthony to calm down.

* * *

The only interaction Steve had with children was when he had been the dancing monkey in WWII, and kids would come up and ask questions and for autographs. But he didn't exactly know how to comfort one. So, he tried to remember what his mother did when he was upset as a child. A bit awkwardly, he rubbed circles on _Anthony_'s back, holding him close. "It's okay. You're all right, Anthony. I promise your dad won't be mad, okay? Besides, this has nothing to do with him. You're not in trouble, he's not in trouble."

Anthony's quiet and poorly hidden sniffles halted and he looked up at Steve, eyes red rimmed but now he was determined to keep his cool. "How can you promise that? That he won't be mad?"

"I'm Captain America, aren't I?" he smiled. "And I am your dad's friend." _Was. _He felt boiling anger toward Howard. He guessed why Anthony was reacting this way and why Bruce had retreated with an angry green glow in his eyes.

Slowly, Anthony nodded and pulled back from Steve. And then like all energy had been drained from him, he crawled back into bed, pulled the covers to his chin, and closed his eyes without another word. Steve sighed heavily and sat in the chair Bruce had left.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, but Coulson arrived with a neatly folded pile of clothes, sporting a red shirt and jeans and black sneakers. "We can go now, Rogers, if you want to wake him up."

Nodding, he took the pile of clothes and laid them down on the bed, and gently touched Anthony's shoulder. "Anthony? Anthony, it's time to go home."

Anthony flinched slightly, face crunching into a grimace, but he opened one eye. "Are my mommy and dad home, too?"

"No." _Thank God. _"So I'm going to stay with you. And a few friends of mine are staying too, like Bruce."

The child frowned, not completely believing. Steve wasn't sure how long they could nudge Anthony with the lie that he was still in his own time and his parents weren't dead when really they weren't sure how to get him back to his own time, or if he'd want to. If it was Steve's choice, he'd tell the kid the truth. He wanted Anthony to know he'd become Tony Stark, and he'd be a hero just like Captain America. Steve wouldn't say anything until he talked to Tony, because he hadn't spoken to his boyfriend since they'd brought Anthony to the SHIELD base in North Dakota. "Okay," Anthony finally agreed, and sat up, his hair a mess of unruly dark locks. He yawned widely and rubbed his eyes. "Why'm I so tired?"

"The doctors here gave you some painkillers for your head. They're probably making you feel a little drowsy. It'll wear off in a few hours." He told him reassuringly. Anthony grunted, and glanced at the clothes. "Those are for you. I'll let you change and I'll back in a few minutes, okay?"

Anthony nodded and started to strip off his scrubs pants, and Steve closed the door behind him. Bruce was waiting, looking grim. "Hey."

"Hey. Is he getting ready?"

Steve gave a short, jerky nod, then looked down to his shoes. "Tony never…he didn't tell me anything about…"

"He didn't say anything to me, either." Bruce admitted. "I just knew that he and his father didn't get along."

"He should have told me." Steve said sadly, but with a hint of bitterness. Tony had told Steve he trusted him completely and there were close to no secrets between them. Steve really shouldn't have taken Tony's word that he knew everything he needed to know.

"Things like that…" Bruce struggled for words, "people dig it down deep in themselves. Eventually, they can almost forget it completely until someone brings it up. That's probably Tony's case, because he's never reacted much to Howard's name. My father was a bit like Tony's, but…" Bruce shrugged. "I got justice. Tony just…lost him."

"Where is Tony now?"

"He took off. He'll meet us back at the Tower." The scientist explained, and placed a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Hey, take it easy on him."

"I'm not really mad at him," Steve muttered. "I'm mad at myself."

"I know."

Tony had sent one of his jets to the base, and that's about as fancy and comfortable as you can get. Anthony had perked up dramatically, holding Steve's hand tightly and nearly bouncing up and down, eyes bugging out when he saw the jet. "Whoa. This has to be one of Dad's new planes!"

"Pretty neat, huh?" Bruce said to Anthony.

"Very cool," Anthony agreed, greedily taking in the whole thing as they entered the plane. Anthony's hand dropped from Steve's and he ran to the middle of the plane, grinning widely. "This is like a tiny house. Is there food on here too, now? I hope there is. I'm hungry."

"I think this only has snacks. I'll get you something small and then we can have a real meal at the mansion. Deal?"

"Deal." Anthony nodded, and plopped down onto the couch, face lighting up when Steve sat next to him. "Hey, Cap- can I call you Captain?"

"Sure," Steve smiled.

"What aren't you guys telling me?" he asked, face turning dead serious. "Everything's high tech. Nothing I've ever seen my own dad make. And then I wake up in a lab and you guys grab me and fly me to…this place. My mom was home before, and now she's not? I don't get it."

Well. Tony _had _been born a genius, so Steve wasn't surprised that Anthony was suspicious. "Uh…" he glanced between Anthony to Bruce, who was standing at the doorway where the snacks were and was watching them, obviously not having an answer whether to explain to Anthony that his dream had been real and he was now in the future. "You know that _dream _you had, Anthony?" Bruce asked quietly.

Something clicked, Steve didn't know what, but Anthony cocked his head and asked, "Am I in the future?"

So much for talking to Tony first. "Yeah, bud, you are."

Anthony's brows furrowed. "Okay. What now? If it's the future, who am I?"

"You should ask him yourself when we get back." Steve said softly, and placed a hand on Anthony's head, gently ruffling the dark hair. "Just know that you're safe, okay? I'll explain everything to you later."

Anthony wasn't convinced with this answer, but he leaned his head against Steve's shoulder, huddling closer to him. "I kind of like the future better so far. It's cool."

Steve thought it was funny Anthony was six years old and he reacted better than _he_ did waking up in the future.

After Anthony's snack, he fell asleep again. Steve couldn't understand how a kid can so quickly alternate between hyper and completely crashed within every 5 minutes, but Bruce said it was normal, especially since Anthony was still on painkillers and his body was adjusting to the lack of dosage. His small head was now on Steve's lap; his body laid out on the couch with his mouth opens slightly, breathing softly. It was eerie how he could seem so much like Tony.

"Do you think that bringing him to New York is a good idea? There's a lot of press already digging in to the explosion. What if someone pieces together that he looks a lot like Tony? They'd guess it was his son or something."

Bruce shook his head. "We're only staying at the Tower for a few days. And then we're going to Malibu. Anthony just needs a minute to adjust, and then we're going to keep him out of the public eye."

"Is…everyone going to Malibu?" Steve winced, thinking of him and Tony's usual quiet beach home being bombarded with the rest of the Avengers.

"For a short time." Bruce grinned. "Besides, Tony's got a better lab there so we can figure out how to get Anthony back without having to deal with Loki."

Steve thought this was the best idea as any. It was clear to him now that there was no choice _but _to explain everything to Anthony. He'd much rather have Anthony find out from them rather than having to snoop around and figure out on his own. Bruce glanced at his watch.

"We'll be landing in 30 minutes."

When it came around the time to land, Steve shifted on the couch and gently tapped Anthony's cheek to wake him.

"Five minutes, Mom…" he grumbled, sitting up slightly before burying his head into Steve's shoulder. Steve chuckled slightly and instead hoisted the child in his arms and let him sleep more. It wasn't so long before the plane's wheels reached the ground and it slid to a stop. Steve stood, Anthony's head lolling on Steve's shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck. When Anthony was asleep and Steve was holding him, he looked younger than when he was awake and talking.

They climbed down the stairs of the plane where Happy with a Phantom car was waiting for them. Happy smirked at the small boy in Steve's arms. "Now, this is something I never thought I'd see."

Steve grinned and slipped into the car. Anthony stirred, eyes half opening blearily, but he made no attempt to move or let them know he was awake. Steve played oblivious. He scooted a little closer to the window, and Anthony adjusted his head subtly so he could have a clear view of the scenery of the window and still keep his head rest on Steve's shoulder. It was silent except for the radio playing classic music the whole ride to the Tower.

By the time they were at the Tower, however, Anthony grew excited again. "I can see it from here! It's huge now. Did I make that building? I'd make something like that. Does the future have holograms? Are there robots? I've always wanted to make a robot. Did I make a robot?"

"You did create a few robots throughout the years, Anthony." Bruce told him. "Most of them are in your Malibu home, which is where you'll be going in a few days. You can meet them then."

"Why are we leaving?" Anthony frowned.

"Too much people here," Steve said. "It's a nice place, though. Probably more high tech than this mansion. You did build it, after all."

This was all Anthony needed to hear to let the subject dropped, lips spread into a small smile. He practically leaped out of the car when it slowed to a stop at the entrance and he waited on his toes for Bruce and Steve to get their things out of the trunk. "C'mon, c'mon! How do I get in?"

"Jarvis? It's Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner." Steve pressed a button on the intercom.

"What's Jarvis doing here? Isn't he…really old?" Of course Anthony thought "Jarvis" was actually his old (human) butler.

"Please scan your hands on the panel, Captain Rogers and Mr. Banner." The British voice replied. "We have a visitor today, I see."

"It's actually Tony from the past."

There was a long pause. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Captain Rogers."

"Someone brought Tony from when he was a kid into this time."

"I see. Welcome, Young Master Tony." Jarvis greeted.

Anthony grinned, eyes shining as they entered the lobby. "That's a computer, isn't it?"

"One that you made," Bruce nodded. "You based it off your old butler."

"I," Anthony took a deep breath, "am awesome!"

Bruce and Steve just shared a knowing look. Tony's _humble_ arrogance started at an early age after all.

* * *

Steve played supervisor for the next few hours as he showed Anthony his room that he'd be staying in (on Steve and Tony's floor, because Steve didn't want Anthony out of his sight) and he introduced them to Clint, Natasha, and Thor.

He was then replaced by Clint as he showed Anthony the arrows future Tony had built for the archer. The boy was timid around Natasha, but when the usually impassive woman gave him a warm, comforting look and held out her hand, introduced herself, he immediately accepted her and shook her hand happily. He walked in between them all through the tour until dinner.

Steve noticed there was still no sign of Tony, but then again they hadn't gone to the lab. When Bruce settled them with a meal of lasagna and everyone was otherwise occupied, he excused himself from the table in the main kitchen and quietly slipped out of the room.

He went down to Tony's lab, and found him scurrying around, picking up pieces of metal here and there and he could see Tony's lips moving, murmuring to himself. He punched in his code and let himself in. "Hey, Tony, we're having dinner."

Tony turned around to face him, lips pressed into a thin line. "I can't see him."

"He knows he's in the future," Steve said softly. "And he wants to see _you." _

"Of course he does," Tony said, snapped, "he wants to see how _awesome_ he turned out. Also, _why the fuck did you tell him?_"

"He was going to figure it out eventually, Tony. You're a genius. Always have been." Tony was still glaring at him, well, not really at him. Just glaring. To change the subject, he walked up to Tony and took his hands in his. "You and I are going to have a serious talk later, so prepare yourself."

"Something tells me that's not the sexy kind of serious talk." Tony frowned. "What did I do?"

"Nothing. You didn't do anything." Steve said quickly, squeezing Tony's hands tightly. "It's just…something Anthony said earlier. Something that kind of shook me and Bruce up."

Tony's brow quirked, confused. "What did tiny me say?"

"Don't worry about it now, all right? We'll talk later." Steve assured him, and pecked him on the cheek. "Now, c'mon. I can hear your stomach growling."

"Liar," Tony grumbled but gradually followed Steve up to the kitchen.

When the two arrived back at the kitchen, the table was empty and Bruce was doing the dishes.

"Seems we're late to the party," Tony remarked, going over to the cabinet to get a plate and then taking a large scoops of lasagna. "Where's the kid?"

"Clint said they were going to find a movie to watch. I swear, he can act as young as Anthony." Bruce said fondly, tossing Steve a dishtowel. "Help a guy out?"

Steve kindly obliged and started drying the washed plated and silverware. "There's a dishwasher in here, you know," Tony said with a full mouth.

"I've always washed dishes by hand. I'm not going to stop now," Bruce said, and whatever reply Tony was going to make was cut off by Clint running into the kitchen.

"Anyone seen a miniature Tony around here?" he demanded. Before anyone could react, there was the sound of a giggle and Anthony scrambled in, trying to go around Clint, but Clint caught him by the sides and lifted him up. For a second, the grin on Anthony's face faltered into a wince, and Steve frowned, but a split second later it was gone and the grin was back. He twisted in Clint's hold, but he was laughing loudly. "Never mind, I found him."

Steve smiled and shook his head, and then glanced at his watch. "Anthony, we should get you ready for bed soon."

Clint scowled. "Party pooper, Cap. We're going to pick out a movie to watch."

"You've had a long day, bud." Steve said to the child, and when his mouth opened in protest, he continued, "No arguments, all right? You have an hour."

"Your head won't like you if you don't get enough rest the next few days," Bruce added, and Tony kept quiet, but Steve saw him mutter under his breath, "This is too weird."

Anthony heaved a sigh and relaxed against Clint. "Mr. Clint, can we play…um, what did you call it? Mario Kart? I want to drive!"

"Excellent choice of gaming, my young Padawan. But I must warn you that you'll never beat me. I am the master." Clint said dramatically. Anthony looked to Steve suspiciously for confirmation.

"It's true." Steve admitted.

"I bet I can beat you! To the game room!" Anthony called, raising a fist, and the two sprinted from the room again.

"Remind me to never let Clint babysit." Tony snorted, and silently Steve agreed.

* * *

As it turned out, Anthony had only played a few rounds of Mario Kart before he instead settled on watching Natasha and Clint play while sitting in Thor's lap as they ate popcorn. Surprisingly enough, Anthony took hold of Steve's hand let him lead to his bedroom without a fuss. The distracted Avengers all said their goodnights without _one _snide remark from Clint.

As Anthony sat on the bed, Steve went through the dresser and saw that already a few outfits of clothing had been neatly folded and arranged. Coulson, probably. Of course it was Coulson. He laughed quietly to himself when he saw that there was Iron Man themed pajama pants, and he _so _wanted to show Tony tomorrow. He handed those and a loose fitting black t-shirt to the boy, and turned around to close the drawer.

When he turned around again, Anthony was attempting to throw off his t-shirt and Steve took a step forward to help him, but then he stopped dead in his tracks.

A large, purplish black bruise decorated Anthony's rib cage. It was a few days old, judging from the creeping yellowish tone. Steve knew he shouldn't assume that it was…Howard, but…

He got his answer when Anthony yanked his red shirt back down again, holding his hands to the bruise. He looked angry. "What?"

"I'm sorry, bud. I just saw that bruise, and…your father…did-"

"He had a good reason," Anthony snapped, whirling around, then softer, "I broke one of his machines."

"That does _not _give him a good enough reason to do that. What's that from? A punch?"

Anthony trembled. "Kick."

"Father's aren't supposed to _kick _their sons, Anthony." Steve said firmly. "Do you hear me? You never have and never _will _deserve that."

The boy just shrugged, but Steve could tell that from the way his shoulders moved he was trying very hard not to cry. Instinctively, he reached out and pulled Anthony to him. The boy stiffened for a second, then sunk.

"Sometimes I think I deserve it. I'm a freak." He whispered. "He said I don't do anything right. He's right. I can't make a robot. I can't finish anything he asks me to fix, because sometimes it's just too _hard." _

"And that's normal." Steve told him, holding him tighter. "You don't have to fix everything."

"Cap," Anthony said quietly, blinking at him through reddened eyes, "are my parents dead? In…in this…time?"

"People age and die, Anthony." Steve said (lied), not really wanting to tell the kid he'd be an orphan at the age of raw age of 17.

There was a silence that seemed to last an eternity. Then Anthony broke, sobbing into Steve's chest and tightly clung to him for God knows how long.

Once Anthony had calmed down enough and had dressed into the pajamas, Steve had Jarvis put on some music and when he left, Anthony's eyes were closed lightly and his breathing was started to even out. Steve then made his way to he and Tony's bedroom that they shared, and saw that, miraculously because Tony usually went to bed nowhere earlier than midnight, he was already in bed playing with a tablet. Steve collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to sort out his emotions. He couldn't understand why Howard would do that to his son. He'd been a nice man. A bit arrogant and self-absorbed, but a well-intentioned man none the less.

"I figured I might as well be a good boyfriend and get a regular eight hours of sleep so you have one less reason to scold me." Tony said, sounding concerned. He poked Steve's cheek affectionately. "Hey. What's wrong? You haven't praised me."

"It's nothing," Steve replied, and cleared his throat at the slight hoarseness. "Just…you. Anthony."

"You mentioned something about…er, me earlier. Do I get the serious talk now?"

Steve shook his head and shifted closer to Tony, wrapping his strong arms around him. "No. Just…stay with me?"

"Sure," Tony said with no hesitation. He put the tablet on a bedside tablet and snuggled closer to Steve so he was resting his head on Steve's chest. "Jarvis, lights off."

The lights slowly dimmed, and for a couple of minutes they just lay there on the bed, Steve stroking Tony's hair and Tony humming "Smoke on the Water"; a song that Steve had become attached to when Tony had introduced him into that music era.

"When are you going to tell me what's bothering you so much?" Tony asked. "It's driving me crazy. Especially since it involves tiny me."

"Tomorrow," Steve breathed. Tony let it go.

Except that it kept him awake throughout the night. He didn't dare move, comfortable and not really wanting to move from where he was, but his head was starting to swim with possibilities that Steve found out about his god awful childhood and the schematics on an upgrade on the armor, and there was a six year old version of him _down the hall, what the hell? _By the time dawn started to creep around, he uncurled himself from Steve, who was still fast asleep. He frowned at the absence of Tony, but then rolled over, sighed heavily, and was quiet again. Tony slipped on a pair of sweat pants over his boxers and a fresh t-shirt and went to his study to pick up the notes he'd left there yesterday (or was it the day before?).

He sat down in his swivel chair and had Jarvis start to pull up his holograms accordingly.

He'd just let himself be sucked into the creations of his mind when there was a shuffling at the door. Tony turned in his chair and saw Anthony in (Jesus Christ, were those Iron Man pajama pants?) his sleepwear. From the way his hair was more tousled than usual and his eyes were bleary, he'd just woken up.

"Hey, kid."

Anthony yawned and muttered a hello.

"Did you, uh, sleep okay?" Tony asked awkwardly.

"Yeah. Who are you?"

"I'm a friend, don't worry."

"I know." Anthony's nose turned up, like he was offended that Tony didn't think he could figure that out on his own. "But I haven't seen you much since I got here. I don't even know your name."

Tony sighed. Well, he did know that he was in the future, what harm could come from that he was him? A lot, maybe, if he really thought about it.

"You're me, aren't you? Like adult me." Anthony said suddenly.

"Bingo."

"I have a beard."

"What? Well, yeah. It's a cool goatee, though. We've been rocking it since we were twenty three."

"Would you be mad if I said its weird looking?"

"Says the boy who will grow it." Tony's eyes narrowed.

"Are we the boss of Stark Industries now?"

"Yep. But Pepper, we meet her way back, runs it. We just own it, help run it, the easy stuff. We have a much cooler job now."

"Oh." Anthony looked confused. Of course he did. He'd been told from day one he was going to run Stark Industries and that was that.

"No, really, it's awesome. Not good pay, but I work with the people you've met, like Clint and Steve and Natasha-"

"How come you have that on your chest?" Anthony asked, looking pointedly at Tony's arc reactor. Unconsciously, Tony's hand drifted to it and his fingers tapped it lightly through his tank top.

"I made some mistakes, and we got hurt by some bad people because of it." Tony told him, and a part of him wanted to go up to himself and shake his shoulders. He wanted to say, _Listen to me closely, and don't do what I did. You can change it! You can stop people from dying because of us!_

Then again, that would be putting death on a six year olds shoulder, even if it was Tony Stark. "My heart was damaged, so I made this so that it keeps working properly."

Anthony's hand reached out and Tony hesitantly lowered his height so that the boy could touch the arc reactor. The small fingers barely brushed against it and then traced the outline, fascinated and frankly Tony could recognize the signs of him being just a little bit terrified.

"It's okay, mini me. It doesn't really hurt anymore." Tony tried for casual, and Anthony swallowed and nodded, looking down at his bare feet.

"Am I cyborg?" Anthony queried, and Tony almost couldn't hear him.

Tony snorted, grinning if not a bit weakly. "Nah. We have an extra accessory, that's all. Everybody's jealous of us because I have it and no one else does."

Anthony frowned. "Dad says that our creations are supposed to be shared to keep Stark Industries running good."

Something, an untouched territory, inside Tony stirred. "_Dad _didn't get watch the people we're trying to protect get killed from the weapons we made, and he didn't watch his business partner and close family friend betray you. Dad is an asshole, kid, and he was wrong." His voice was harsh and cold and Tony regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. For fuck's sake, that was all Tony had to hold onto being a kid. Impressing his father; rising up to his father's level and _more. _Destroying an image that had been sealed into Tony's brain, that Howard wasn't always there for him but he was there for everyone else and he did _good, _even if he never saw it ("Look at the newsreels, boy! Look at the praise!" Obadiah had said to him) would not go well for a young Tony Stark. Not when he didn't know there were other options.

Anthony froze, eyes wide and Tony saw (oh god, when was the last time he had even cried?) moisture glistening at the corners in the dim light. Tony let out a breath and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry."

When he opened his eyes again, Anthony was gone.

Tony picked up a pencil bin and threw into the wall with a quiet feral cry, eyes stinging with his own phantom tears that he'd trained himself not to let out. Sometimes, Tony estimated that he wasn't capable of crying anymore.

* * *

Six year old Tony doesn't really know where he should run. He doesn't really know where anything is, so he goes into the elevator, closes his eyes, and presses a button. He opens his eyes. _Floor 118. _

He waits until the elevator stops and when the doors open, he sees that it's kind of a lounge room. There's a mini kitchen in the corner, appliances sleeker and new, and a large television on the wall with a long, rounding couch. There's a bean bag, too. On the other side of the floor, there's a big table that has a bunch of art stuff with paper. He disregards them; he's not much of an artist. Instead, he plops into the bean bag and tries not to think about what big Tony said.

Especially since it kind of sounds true.

But Daddy wasn't a bad person. Tony just wasn't doing well enough for him, he didn't learn fast enough, didn't pay attention enough, didn't…_Fathers aren't supposed to act like that, Anthony. _Steve told him. He knew _that, _he'd watched movies and heard stories of how fathers were "supposed" to be like. He just wasn't as lucky.

_I made some mistakes, and we got hurt because of it. _Tony shuddered. What had he done? What was he _going _to do? He didn't want to face that. He wanted to be the best, but he didn't want to be bad.

"JARVIS?" he asked hesitantly, eyes flickering up to the ceiling.

"Yes, Young Master Tony?" the voice asked, and Tony's heart clenched at the way it sounded so much like Jarvis back home.

"What did I do?"

"Sir?"

"What did I do?!" Tony's raised voice choked at the end. "The thing in my chest. How did I get hurt? What happened to me?"

"The arc reactor was installed during your time captive in the Middle East, sir. Estimation of seven pieces of shrapnel from a Stark Industries bomb was threatening your heart, and you constructed the device at a-"

Tony didn't understand. That wasn't helping. What did getting hurt have to do with a mistake from him? He wouldn't feel guilty or sad if he got hurt and then made his own solution. Tony would be proud of himself, and he'd show the arc reactor to his father and tell him how he made it and-

"What happened when I was kidnapped?" Tony asked then. There was a long silence. "Jarvis?"

"During the quest for your kidnapping, five soldiers were pronounced dead at the scene. You, or Sir, as often felt responsible for this."

_Soldiers. Dead. Stark Industries bomb. Kidnapping. _

"Someone stole my stuff, and they used to kill those people." Tony whispered, and everything came together. "I couldn't stop them."

"Around that time, Young Master Tony, you became Iron Man." Jarvis's robotic voice had a hint of gentleness that Tony wasn't sure he was imagining or not.

"What?" he asked, and the windows of the room turned to transparent videos of a red and gold human-like robot.

* * *

Clint always wakes up early, but no one suspects it. Initially, he doesn't show himself until 11 AM at least, but he's awake by the asscrack of dawn. The only people awake at the same time as him is Tony when he goes to bed early or doesn't at all. He lurks in the vents for a while until breakfast is made, sometimes just sitting there playing Angry Birds on his Stark Phone or fiddling with his bow. Or he goes on the roof. Today it was too cold to go on the roof and he had beaten all levels of Angry Birds. He was bored. Until the vents vibrated in a commotion.

He heard the voices, knew them as Tony and the now familiar child-voice of Anthony (or baby Tony). He couldn't really hear the words exchanged, but as he peeked through the grate he saw Anthony run out of the room and Tony slump in defeat. Tony threw something at the wall, and Clint knew that whatever he and the younger version of himself had talked about, it hadn't ended well.

He waited for a bit, and when Tony made no move to go after Anthony, Clint crawled out of hearing distance. "JARVIS, where's mini Tony?"

"Young Anthony is in the lounge room, Mr. Barton." The computerized voice informed him. "He's quite upset."

"What'd Tony say to him?"

"Anthony inquired about the arc reactor, Mr. Barton. Sir did not take his questions well about that and Howard Stark."

Oh. Well, _that _explained things.

"Mr. Barton, I'm afraid I might have acted a bit…rashly. I hoped informing Anthony about his "mistakes" and then showing him how Iron Man came to be would soothe his insecurities of not living up to Howard Stark." If it were possible, Clint would have thought he detected guilt in the AI.

"And…that didn't help?" he asked.

"Hardly. Similar to Sir, he's dwelling more on the bad rather than the good he's made."

"Typical." Clint snorted. "I suppose I have to go talk to him."

"I feel that would be best."

Clint opened the ventilation door in the big bathroom on Steve and Tony's floor and jumped down, landing easily on his feet. He tiptoed out the bathroom and to the elevator and went down to the lounge floor. When the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, he saw Anthony slouched in a (uh, _his, _thank you very much he picked it out himself_) _beanbag chair.

"Hey, little buddy." He called out, and Anthony turned his head toward him.

"Hi," and turned his head away again.

"JARVIS told me what happened."

Anthony shrugged.

"You realize that all that shit, I mean, uh, _crap, _turned you into the man you are today. And let me tell you, that's okay. You're rich, you're-"

"I'm rich now." Anthony interrupted.

"Am I finished? No. Anyway, you're freaking Iron Man. Don't play oblivious with me, I know JARVIS told you about it. You're a superhero now, Anthony." Clint told him. "Just like any little boy would want."

"I don't deserve to be a hero if I killed people." Anthony muttered.

"Kid, do you really think that every superhero doesn't have a little dark in their path on the way to becoming a hero?" Clint asked.

"Captain America didn't."

"But he lost people close to him because he couldn't save them. And you didn't ever pull a trigger."

"My missiles-"

"That just got in the wrong hands. Listen, the important thing is, you've made up for it. And you continue to." Clint said, walking up to him and sitting to the couch adjacent to Anthony. "Okay?"

"Okay." Anthony said quietly, looking up at Clint. "Thanks, Mr. Clint."

"Call me Clint. What else is on your mind?" Anthony said nothing. "I know that look. Something else is bugging you."

"I miss home." Anthony said casually, or attempting to sound so.

Clint knew how that felt. Even if his home life hadn't been all that comforting, the familiar presence of home would be enough to soothe a mind. Then he got an idea. "Wait here, kid."

* * *

Steve woke not feeling Tony beside him. He groaned slightly and cracked open an eye. Wait, what time was it? He shot up. "JARVIS?"

"Good morning, Captain Rogers. The time is 9 AM. The weather is-"

"Where's Tony?" he cut in, rubbing his hand over his face.

"In the shower." JARVIS reported. "Mr. Barton is with Anthony in the lounge room, and-"

Yesterday's events came flooding back. He jerked fully awake and took a quick shower, threw on jeans and a sweatshirt and started toward the elevator.

"Captain Rogers, I'm afraid Young Master Tony has had a lot of information told to him. He hasn't dealt with it…very well."

_That's the last thing we need, _Steve thought. "What do you mean?"

"Young Anthony inquired about Sir's arc reactor," (oh god, Steve thought to himself) "and I made a…poor decision on my part of trying to explain his reasons for becoming Iron Man."

_Damn it. _"Is he okay?"

"For the time being, yes."

Wanting to see with his own eyes before anything else, he went to the lounge room and peeked in. Anthony and Clint were seated at the large table with art supplies that Natasha had prepared the day before in case Anthony was ever in the mood to feel artistic since Tony didn't let Anthony in his lab (yet). Clint was chattering loudly about something about arrows and fiddling with something. As he walked closer, he saw that Anthony was making something similar to a nest, consisting of twigs, glue, and green fabric and scrunched up paper, and his face was contorted into an intense look of concentration.

"There, see? Now you have a little piece of home with you." Clint is saying.

Steve saw a now slightly shredded green sweatshirt on the table, too. He then realized that he just witnessed Clint making an actual nest and not a metamorphic one. Oh, Tony was going to get a kick out of this.

Especially when he mentioned that Anthony made one too.

"Good morning," he put on a smile.

Anthony turned around in his seat and Steve thought of the crying little boy the night before, scared and maybe a little bit broken. But he was grinning now, bright and cheery. "Hi, Captain! Clint helped me make a nest with my sweatshirt so I won't miss home!"

"That was a good idea," Steve said, eyes sliding to Clint, who smirked cheekily and went back to his own nest. "I bet Bruce is awake now. Want to go see what he's going to make for breakfast?"

"Sure." Anthony hopped out of his seat. "Are you coming, Uncle Clint?"

"I'll be there in a bit, little buddy. I've got stuff to do." Clint said, waving them off. "Save some bacon for me."

"Okay. I'll eat it all." Anthony said slyly, and Steve noticed the way he'd eased in so quickly to his snark.

"You're funny."

As Anthony followed Steve out of the room and back into the elevator, Steve asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Anthony blinked up at him, too innocently. So he was better, but not 100%. It was a start, at least. Anthony being confronted about his abuse _and _being told about what would happen to him in the future could have gone much, much worse.

"Hey, Bruce. What are you cooking?" Steve asked the scientist as they walked into the kitchen. Anthony darted over to the stove where he stood and went on his tiptoes.

"Pancakes!" Anthony cheered. "I never get pancakes."

"Wait till you taste Bruce's blueberry pancakes." Steve said, sitting down at the table with Anthony. "They're magic."

Anthony made a face. "I hate magic. Too complicated."

"And that won't change." Bruce called out. Anthony huffs and crosses his arms, pleased.

* * *

Later that day, Tony is sitting in his swivel chair in his workshop, spinning slowly. He's furious with himself, because what he said to Anthony…they were the words he'd beaten himself down with since Afghanistan, or earlier than that in different contexts. And he put them into the sensitive and genius mind of Anthony Stark at age six.

In so many ways, if Anthony took what he said to heart, things when he returned to the past could go very, very wrong.

He skipped lunch, instead downing coffee and staying in his chair. He's actually inhabited the swivel chair all day, rolling to where he wants to go. His brain has decided that instead of filling his brain with new ideas for technology, it's straying to the fuzzy memories of his childhood. That is not a place to go.

He finds he has to work hard for the first time in a long time to not remember. He's always had a good memory; he could recall anything, anytime. But as a teenager, shortly after his parent's deaths, he'd purposefully buried his childhood along with them. It was easy. He didn't _want _to dwell on those memories, so he disposed of them. Temporarily, apparently.

Sometime between lunch and evening, Steve comes down. Tony thinks it can't be a good sight; his hair is probably a mess, he's still wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt, and he's sitting on a rolling chair not working on anything. He hasn't found the concentration to work on anything today. JARVIS talks to him, clearly picking up that Tony is struggling with something, and it's enough to keep Tony _out. _

"Tony?"

Tony blinks, and his eyes feel heavy. "Hmm?"

He could practically sense Steve going into worry-mode. "Are you all right?"

He doesn't he hadn't turned to look at Steve, or moved at all, until Steve was in his line of direction, gripping his shoulders. "That's what you wanted to talk about, probably. It's to be expected. I think I was trying to make it stop around that age, to ask dear old Dad if doing that, saying this, was okay. He said yes, of course-"

"What are you talking about, Tony?" Steve asked, ever so gentle, as if walking on cracking ice. Tony knew that he knew exactly what he meant.

He rolled his head, tired of it being still. "My shitty childhood, Steve. Was I right? You wanted to talk about that?"

Steve's lips pursed. "You haven't been drinking, have you?"

"JARVIS?" Tony asks instead.

"Sir has not consumed any alcohol today."

"Then we can talk." Steve tugged on Tony's arm and reluctantly Tony stood up and let Steve lead him to the couch. He plopped down and Steve did the same. He waited until Steve spoke, seeing that the other man seemed to be sorting out some thoughts. "Back at the SHIELD base, Bruce was talking to Anthony. And when I walked in, he hugged me and begged me to tell Howard it wasn't his fault."

Tony flinched, grimacing. "Hmm. Sounds about right."

"Tony, look at me."

Tony did, if barely so. "What do you want me to say, Steve? Yes, my dad was an asshole. Yes, he abused me like the drunk asshole he was. But he's dead, I'm not, and I'm…" he struggled for the right words. "fine."

"I'm just going to go ahead and assume you've never talked about this to anyone before." Steve said softly, rubbing Tony's back. It was a nice feeling. Steve was a nice feeling, actually.

"Nope, and I don't want to. Okay?"

"Tony."

"Steve."

"We don't have to poke at old wounds, but if you're ever…having unpleasant memories, please tell me. Deal?" Steve asked.

_Fair enough. _"Deal. How's the kid after my little outburst?"

"He's…God, Tony, he's a mini you. How would I know how he's truly holding up?" Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, well, there's that." Tony agreed. "I should, uh, apologize. Or whatever. I didn't want to spill it on him."

"Clint has been strangely helpful with him today, so he's probably with him right about now."

"I don't trust that." Tony chuckled, stretching his arms. "Where are they now?"

"Clint is showing off his gaming skills again, and Anthony is probably in the middle of making his own game system."

"I would do that." Tony hummed. "Just to piss off Clint."

"He's Uncle Clint now." Steve grinned.

"What?" Tony yelped. "No, no, no, that can't happen! I can't call him that! Clint will never _shut up _about it._._"

"It's not…now you, Tony. He won't make a big deal about it." Steve rolled his eyes. "Also, you and Clint made nests."

Tony stopped short, spluttering. "What the _fuck?"_

* * *

The whole apology thing, to Tony's relief, wasn't as bad as he first thought. He sat down on the couch in the game room next to Anthony, and Clint was shooed out by Steve. Tony explained the best he could that even after everything that happened, they turn out to be a better person that he ever would be and Tony is happy.

That seemed to help, because Anthony nodded and then hugged Tony quickly, said thank you, and went back to fiddling with the Wii that Tony himself had modified to more, well, Tony-style.

They played Mario-Kart together, and Tony beat both Anthony and Clint. And then he was subjected as a victim to a pillow fight.

"_Ow! _Hey, you can't-" he put his arms in defense, laughing. "I can't help it that I'm awesome."

"You cheated with your genius ways!" Clint accused, smacking him again with his pillow.

"Yeah!" Anthony grinned.

"You're a genius too, you little sucker." Tony made a face at Anthony, and Anthony made an identical face right back.

"Not like you…yet." He grinned and hit Tony once again in the leg.

As Tony tried to flee, Clint dove and caught his pant leg, causing Tony to stumble and drop to the floor. Tony tried to roll away as they continued to use pillows to get revenge of getting their asses kicked.

"Uh, what's going on here?" a voice asked, and Tony peeked out from below Anthony, who was sprawled on top of him as an advantage to get his face, and saw Steve standing at the door.

"I won."

Clint scoffed and poked Tony's shoulder. "Rematch. Tomorrow."

"You'll have to see if Tony has that game in Malibu, then. We have to leave tomorrow. Reed Richards is going to meet us there so we can start figuring out how to get Anthony back home."

"_Reed?" _Tony said, about to protest.

"Tony, be reasonable. You're friends and you know it, even if you insist on debating who's smarter." Steve stared him down in a warning.

"Can't we stay here one more day?" Anthony pleaded hopefully. "I, uh…Tony didn't show me the lab! Please?"

"You still have time today for that. Sorry, bud, but we have to get started." Steve smiled encouragingly. "Besides, Tony has an even bigger lab in Malibu."

Anthony looked to Tony. "Really?"

Tony nodded and grinned. "Much bigger."

"Sweet!" Anthony returned Tony's grin and gripped his wrist. "C'mon, let's go to the lab now. Before Cap says we can't."

Steve cocked his head. "When did I become the bad guy here?"

"You've got the party pooper vibe on you, Steve. It's even more obvious to kids." Clint guffawed and darted toward Tony and Anthony's retreating forms down the hallway.

"What's that?"

"That's some prototypes for a new suit model."

"Oh. What's that?"

"A new interface for the SHIELD helicarrier."

"What's a helicarrier?"

Tony facepalmed and sighed. "I forgot that while you're a tiny genius, you're not caught up on the times of 2013."

"And I'm not gonna be able to tell everyone about all of it, am I?" Anthony asked, looking up at Tony, eyes wide and a little sad.

_That could be an issue, _Tony thinks. Tony would be climbing the walls if he had to keep the entire future a goddamned secret. They'd have to talk about this later for both their sakes.

"Sorry." Tony sighed. "You really can't."

"Hey, hey, sto-" Both Tony's turned to see Dummy tugging on Clint's long sleeve. "Let go, you fucker."

Anthony giggled and Tony put his hands on his hips. "Don't talk to Dummy that way, Hawkass, he'll remove your overly large nose."

Clint put a hand to cover his nose protectively. "What if I say please?"

"His nose is pretty big," Anthony whispered to Tony, grinning.

"Monstrous." Tony agreed.

"Betrayal!" Clint cried, pointing to Anthony. "You've abandoned me."

"I go where I'll win." Anthony shot back.

"You," Clint glared, turning his point to Tony, "were a little shit from the start."

"As I've been told." Tony held out his hand to Anthony and the boy high fived it. "Want to watch me build Clint an explosive arrow?"

"Yeah!" Anthony told him, looking at him like _duh. _

"J, put on some music for us." Tony turned around picked off a metal exoskeleton of an arrow.

"What about me?" Clint whined, still trying to pry the bot off his arm.

"Dummy, release the bird." And the bot obliged, just as AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" came on.

"I love this song!" Anthony yelled, "Mom never lets me listen to it 'cause it has _hell_ in it!"

"I'm here to tell you that never stops you." Tony said, and snorted in laughter when he saw Clint doing an air guitar.

"What are you _doing?" _Anthony laughed, but he ran over to Clint and started imitating him.

"You're both ruining my tunes!" Tony teased, and then his foot started tapping.

* * *

Steve came down later to find Tony, Clint, and mini Tony dancing and singing to AC/DC's "Back in Black."

He blinked. And then he blinked again, and the sight was still there. He shook his head and was about to turn when he almost smack into Thor with Bruce close behind. "Oh. Hey."

"I wish I could join them," the god said a bit longingly. "Unfortunately, I must speak to my brother. I've been informed Loki is still in Asgard, under their will. But tricksters have tricks. I believe he has a grudge against Tony for outsmarting him time and time again."

"Makes sense," Steve mused, and winced at a crash. "Uh, bring souvenirs?"

"I will bring Young Anthony the finest brewery." Thor promised.

"What? You seriously give kids alcohol?"

"As a celebration only!" the god said, raising his hands. "At least, in mine and Loki's case."

Steve shook his head. "Good luck, anyway."

"Don't worry, Captain. I will find a way to make Loki compromise, and the boy will be back in the time he belongs."

"Thanks, Thor." Steve said appreciatively.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Thor, is it possible for Loki to, uh, erase Anthony's memories? Of being here?"

Thor smiled sadly. "I wish I could give you a clear answer."

"But do we have to? Will it change too much to just…let him keep the memories?" Steve asked.

"As much as it would pain me to let young Anthony go back to his time and suffer as he has, I feel it's too risky. I'll inquire Loki about it. Gentlemen," Thor bowed his head and turned back to the elevator.

"How much do you want to bet that both Tony's won't agree?" Bruce sighed.

Steve didn't have answer.

**Comments? Questions? Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N:_ *ahem* HOLY HELL WAS THIS A BITCH TO WRITE. But it is finished, and I hope you like it. Reviews are a gift from the gods. C:**

**Thanks to Alyssa for beta'ing; you're my bub**

_Thump! _

_What in the love of fuck is that noise? _Tony's still sleep ridden mind wondered, not letting his eyes open.

_Thump! _

Jesus Christ. It was Saturday, Tony_ knew_ it. There was no reason anyone should be disturbing his beauty sleep. He moaned and flopped an arm to get Steve's attention. "Steeebe."

Steve seemed to be just as determined to stay asleep, because he grunted and rolled half away. Tony didn't have the strength to try harder.

"Ugh. WHO IS MAKING THAT GODDAMN NOISE?" he yelled, for lack of better option. Steve grunted again.

"Agent Barton and young Master Anthony are playing with foam swords, sir. It's become a fierce game." Jarvis announced. "Good morning, sir."

Oh. Well, that may have been a better option, asking Jarvis. "Tell 'em to zip it. People sleeping."

The noises quieted after a minute, and Steve scooted back closer to Tony, putting one arm draped on his belly. Tony hummed and relaxed again, hoping to catch a few minutes of sleep before they had to get on a plane and bring everyone to Malibu.

He'd just started to fade again when the door creaked open a little and he shot up, blinking blearily at the light that creeped in. "Not cool, Clint."

"I was looking for Ca- _holy cow!" _

Tony squinted a little harder and saw Anthony in those Iron Man pajama pants (okay, he needed to talk to whoever's idea that was) gaping at them. Wait. Oh, God. "Anthony—"

"I'm dating Captain America!" he exclaimed, and then looked behind him. "Uncle Clint, I'm _dating _Captain America! You were right!"

In the distance, Tony could hear Clint laughing. _That fucker. _

Next to him, Steve was chuckling lowly, trying to stifle his laughter.

"What are you laughing at? I just discovered I was gay a good 20 years before I was supposed to!" Tony moaned.

"We should get up," Steve muttered, sighing.

"No thanks."

"Tony, your miniature self is running around yelling that he's dating me. We might want to sit him down and explain to him that he can't, you know, spread that around."

"He knows that, Steve. I know that." The billionaire sat up and yawned widely. "Whatever. I need some coffee anyway."

"Mmm," Steve mused, "I almost hope Clint didn't listen and let Anthony stay up late. Then he'll sleep and not end up climbing the walls during the trip."

"Desperate hopes." Tony said, and then slid out of bed. "Please tell me it's only Reed Richards that's coming."

"And possibly Johnny Storm." Steve's mouth twitched.

"Your slightly younger and much more annoying clone?" Tony joked.

"I don't understand why people think we look alike!" Steve said indignantly. "Want to join me for a shower?"

Tony's eyebrows waggled suggestively. "I'll take that as an order, Captain."

When Tony and Steve went to the main kitchen, fully awake and freshly showered, they saw Clint and Anthony scarfing down breakfast and Bruce talking worriedly on the phone.

"Yeah, just tell them it's a really distant cousin from his dad's side. Really distant." Bruce ran a hand through his dark hair, and exited the room when he realized there were too many people. "What are they saying now?"

"What's going on?" Tony asked, snatching a piece of toast and taking a bite.

"Some asshat from SHIELD let loose that a kid appeared here and how it had something to do with you. Now the media is crowding around the entrance, saying bullshit like he's your son from a one night stand," Clint growled. "Coulson is talking to them now and Natasha's running security measures."

"This is exactly why we need to get out of New York before it hits the fan." Steve frowned. "We were hoping to dodge the press this time."

"I'm used to the press," Anthony said through a mouthful of eggs. "I don't like them though."

"None of us do," Steve said dryly, ruffling Anthony's hair.

"Do _they _know I'm dating Captain America?" Anthony asked, raising his eyebrows. Tony had a disturbing mental image of little Tony stepping up to pedestal with Steve holding his hand and announcing their love and frankly he wasn't sure whether to laugh or grimace.

"Yes, they do." Tony said carefully. "They don't know a lot, but they're…eh, _okay _with it, more or less."

Anthony shook his head, bewildered. "I'm dating Captain America."

"Still Steve Rogers, bud." Steve grinned. "And you won't see me until you're a lot older."

"Legally older," Clint chimed in, and all three of them made a face at him.

"Mini me, are you finished with your breakfast?" Tony asked as he finished off his toast. Anthony slid out of his seat and nodded. "Okay, follow me. If they get too good of a look at you the whole 'you're my kid' theory is going to go through the roof, and we're going to be in trouble. So we're going to disguise you."

"Can I have a beard?" Anthony asked, grinning. Tony snorted. "No?"

"I demand input," Clint interjected. "I have a box full of disguise shit anyway."

"Language." Steve admonished, narrowing his eyes at the archer.

"That's okay, Cap, I don't care," Anthony gripped Clint's arm. "C'mon, show me."

"I'm not even going to ask why you have a box of disguises, Barton." Tony scoffed.

* * *

Half an hour later, Anthony was surrounded by different hats. Tony had said no to the Captain America one, and glasses and a few fake mustaches were also quickly discarded.

"What about this one?" the boy asked, slipping on a black wool hat.

"Nah. Doesn't fit you." Clint remarked. He tugged it off the boy's head and threw it on the floor. He dug through the large cardboard box, muttering to himself.

"Hey, Tony?" Anthony asked, as he walked up to the large windows in the lounge area in Tony's penthouse. "After we get to Malibu, can we go to the store?"

"Um. Okay. Why?" Tony inquired, watching Anthony closely at the corner of his eye. "We can send Hawkass to get us a carton of milk or twelve if we wanted."

"Well, uh," Anthony fumbled with his hands, wringing them restlessly. "It's stupid. You'll think I'm stupid."

"I'm _you, _kid." Tony laughed softly. "There's not much you can tell me that I wouldn't already know you thought of."

"Do you remember our third birthday?" Anthony didn't look at Tony.

"No." Tony sighed. "Too long."

"That was when Auntie Peggy gave us that Captain America toy. That was the last few toys I, we, had. Remember that?"

"Yes." Tony swallowed. Damn. That stupid toy had been his sacred object up until… "_He_ took it from you just a little bit ago, huh?"

Anthony gave a tiny nod. "Seeing that Captain America hat made me think of it. Do you think I could, um, bring it with me? I'd hide it, say Auntie Peggy got me a new one since I _lost _the other one if he did find it again."

"Let's…" Tony's throat suddenly felt very dry. "Let's ask Bruce later, shall we? I'm pretty sure we can."

"Okay." Anthony's grim look vanished into a smile within seconds. How do kids _do _that?

"Found the perfect thing!" Clint called, scrambling over to them. He held up in one hand "hipster glasses", thick rimmed and positively…okay, when Clint put them on Anthony looked kind of adorable. "Now both of you. Close your eyes."

When Tony obliged and then opened them again, he choked out a laugh. The hat Anthony had been forced to wear was furry and bright pink, like a piece of sandwich meat left under a bed for 3 weeks and then dyed neon.

"It's very…pimp." He managed, trying not to fall to the floor and laugh hysterically until his sides hurt.

"What did you _do to me?" _Anthony demanded, small hands fumbling around the hat.

"Oh, please, don't be so dramatic. No one would suspect you as his kid now. He wouldn't let his kid walk out in public like that." Clint's tried to keep his face stoic, but his lips twitched upward involuntarily.

Anthony scrambled over to the wall size mirror near the bookshelf and moaned dutifully. "This is so stupid looking."

The combination of the furry neon pink hat and the glasses did look pretty ridiculous. But hey, at least no one would suspect anything.

Pepper was going to _kill _Tony when she saw a kid with that outfit on the news. He should call her and explain, since he may have sort of failed to mention that his six year old self had been brought to the future by Loki. Oh, yeah. Cold, heartless _murder. _

"Okay, bud, let's get the rest of your stuff together. We've gotta go." Clint said, picking up Anthony before the boy could say anything else.

"Can you not manhandle me?" Tony snarked, and Clint stuck his tongue out at the man as Anthony laughed.

Getting out of the tower and to the airport wasn't too bad, considering. The Avengers sort of huddled around Anthony, still in Clint's arms, saying no comment and repeatedly asking for no pictures for the privacy of "Mr. Stark's cousin."

* * *

It wasn't a secret that Tony loved flying, but he didn't realize how young he was when he enjoyed it. He did remember getting excited if his father let him go with him on a business trip on a plane. Those planes weren't as great as Tony's own, however.

Tony liked his own planes, thank you.

Anthony did too, if his constant questions of how Tony had built the thing were anything to go by and the fact he wouldn't sit still. At all. He was always moving. If his body wasn't a flurry of activity, his mouth was.

"I didn't build these directly. I just made the blueprints and monitored what goes in." Tony rubbed a hand over his face.

"Oh. What kind of engines does this one run on?" he asked. Tony stifled a groan. He now shared Steve's wish that Anthony would just sleep.

"What time did Clint put you to bed last night?"

"Um, not very late." Anthony said, smiling innocently.

"Young Master Anthony was directed to bed at approximately 1:30 AM by Ms. Romanoff, due to Mr. Barton forgetting the time." Jarvis said. Both Clint and Anthony glared up at the ceiling of the plane as Steve looked at them disapprovingly. "Sir, Ms. Potts is calling."

"Dammit." Tony sighed and dug his Starkphone out of his pocket and went to the now empty snack room. "Joe's whore house, you got the dough we got the hoe." He drawled, smirking.

"Tony, why do you have a child that's said to be…well, either your second/third cousin or your son?" Pepper asked calmly, too calmly, and that was scary if anything.

"See, that's funny. I was just going to call you."

"I'm sure. Care to explain?"

"Well, it's not my fault, let's begin with that. No, he's not my illegitimate kid. And no, he's not my cousin."

"Then who the hell is he, Tony?" Pepper sighed.

"To put it in the simplest context possible…it's me. From the past. Loki brought him, or me, here."

There was a long pause, and Tony could imagine Pepper debating whether or not he was covering his own ass or telling the truth. In his defense, since the whole Avengers thing started, weird things have happened.

This just happened to be one of the even weirder things.

"I'll confirm that he's your cousin then." she said, her voice tight. "Dammit."

"Just say the whole confidentiality rights crap. Parents don't want their names disclosed, and no pictures of their kid going viral. Throw in some lawyer threats, too. That'll shut them up."

"I'll see what I can do. Are you all going to Malibu?"

"To see if we can zap him back to his right time, yeah. It's more…private. Reed Richards is flying down too." Tony explained.

"Sounds like a party." Pepper snorted gently. "CEO regulations aside, how are you doing with this?"

"I don't know. Fine, I suppose." Tony shrugged one shoulder, knowing she couldn't see it. "It's not really as bad as it was."

"But he knows he's in the future?" Pepper had the worried voice.

"Yeah. And that I'm him and all that. This morning, he found out I was dating Steve, remind me to tell you about that later—"

"What about when he does go back? He's you! Do you really expect him to keep all that a secret? You're…what, six?"

"And three-quarters."

"Tony," she warned. "Even I know this could be dangerous."

"Don't worry. We'll figure something out so that he doesn't alter the present. My present, anyway," Tony assured. "Somehow."

Pepper did that long sigh again. "I have to go, Tony. Keep me updated."

"Okay. Steve will ring you."

"I love you, you know that? In the—"

"Not creepy, platonic way. I know. I love you too," Tony said, smiling a little. "Bye, Pep."

"There better not be anything bad on the television about you in the next few days!"

"Who was that?" Anthony asked him as Tony slipped out of the snack room. The atmosphere had changed in the jet since he took the phone call. Clint, instead of being a little shit and encouraging Anthony's hyperness (like he usually did), was passed out on one of the chairs, and Steve was…well, that didn't change. He was sitting comfortably and reading _The Hobbit_, looking up to smile warmly at Tony.

Anthony was practically _bouncing. _

"My CEO, aka best friend. Pepper Potts."

Anthony giggled. "That's a funny name."

"Yeah. Don't let her hear you say that," replied Tony, letting his expression turn serious and a little terrifying. Anthony's eyes widened and he nodded his head.

"Don't scare him, Tony," Steve chided, shaking his head.

"I can scare myself."

"Nuh-uh. Then you'd grow up with my fears that you created for me," Anthony said smugly, shaking his index finger.

Tony sighed. "I can't win here. Are we almost there?"

"Another hour, Tony."

"…How come you didn't create, like, supersonic speed? I bet we could, you know. Let's get Jarvis to do some research on that and—"

Tony groaned, sat down, and buried his head in his arms.

* * *

Within minutes of getting to the mansion, Anthony picked out his room, insisted that he wanted to be alone, and from there fell asleep without even taking off his shoes.

Tony was waiting for a pot of coffee as Steve came down from upstairs. "Hey. What's he doing?"

"Sleeping, finally," Steve said, walking over to Tony and kissing him. "We've barely had any alone time lately."

"No kidding." Tony sighed, nuzzling Steve's neck and wrapping his arms around him.

"Storm and Richards will be here any minute, turns out. I thought they'd be here tomorrow, but…yeah."

"Okay. Uh, hey, have you considered that the kid is from, I don't know, not from the past but from an alternate universe? I mean, we've seen it before. More than time travel." Tony murmured.

"Bruce said that the mark on his wrist was a Norse symbol dealing with time, like a spell. And it seems like his past is right on with yours."

"Have we even asked?"

"What?"

"Yes, he's got an asshole dad. Yes, he's still got the whole prodigy child of Stark Industries thing going on. But you never know." Tony insisted.

"Well, that's why Thor's looking for Loki, to see if we can't get some answers and maybe a quicker method of getting him back."

"You…you, uh, seem…" Tony cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nothing. It's nothing. I'm going to go wait for the asshats."

"Tony—"

"Steve." Tony patted his shoulder and went off, hearing Steve's soft chuckle as he did. He went to the front entrance, where the fountain was, and leaned against the cement wall waiting for the car.

In truth, he couldn't care less if they came and no one was around. But he needed to think.

And how selfish he was to think what he was thinking.

Keeping Anthony was too risky, even if he was from an alternate universe. Or time travel. It was insane to even consider it, Tony knew that. There was no way he was going to babysit his bratty self, anyhow.

He wasn't bad at six, but he _was_ (or will be, whatever). Tony has the paparazzi photos to prove it once he reached 12, and written police reports.

_Whatever happened when you were a kid, it's turned you into who are now, and that's not so bad, right?_ Steve said that to him, once or twice or a thousand times, and well, maybe now's a good time to keep that in consideration while they send that kid back to-

_Don't go there, Stark. _

His attention jerked from his thoughts to the fancy car that Tony had arranged to pick up Richards and Storm from the hangar, and he swear he felt whatever patience that Anthony had left in him leave like a light switch at the sight of Johnny yelling, "Yo, Stark! You got any drinks for me? I'm the guest of honor!"

"You want a drink, you get it yourself. I'm still Tony Stark, and I'm not your maid." Tony replied, scowling as the two got out of the car. "Welcome to the best free vacation house you'll ever get."

"Vacation, huh?" Johnny grinned. "What are some benefits?"

"None. I lied, it's not a vacation. You're here to work and get mini me out of here." Tony said, walking up to Richard and shaking his hand. "Reed."

"Tony," Reed greeted, smiling slightly. "Been a while."

"Yeah, can't say I missed your pretty face. Dr. Banner is already down in the lab, setting up. Want to head down?"

Reed nodded, and tossed his bag to Johnny. "You can take that right?"

"Am I a pack mule?" Johnny sputtered. "Don't leave me here."

"Call Steve, if you want. I'm sure he'd be happy to help." Tony put a hand on Reed's shoulder and led him toward the door, leaving Johhny with the driver who seemed content enough to get the hell out of dodge.

"So, how's babysitting?" Reed asked. Tony just glared.

* * *

A few hours later, Tony went down to the lab from a late lunch and maybe a make out with Steve in his bedroom that didn't escalate the way Tony wanted. Apparently Steve was paranoid of Anthony walking in on them, seeing much worse than them half asleep and fully clothed in bed just that morning.

Nothing looked that much different, though, in the hours that he left Reed and Bruce down there, and that was a surprise because in past deals when they had to work together as genius minds, they had made a mess of practically everything in just a matter of minutes. And instead of bustling around or hunched over a desk they were idly looking through Jarvis's database filled with everything about Norse mythology and spells that Loki might have used.

"Um."

"Tony, hey." Bruce looked up. "So, the only real way that we're ever going to get anything figured out with Anthony is if we actually talk to Loki. I'm not magic."

Tony's teeth still gritted at the mention of magic. "Yeah. It was kind of a long shot. Still, though, we can still maybe take a quick look."

"Well, we decided we may be able to work on something else useful for us and Anthony instead." Reed cut in.

"What?"

"According to everything we've looked at, Anthony is from our past and not an alternate universe past. That means it really does matter what little things might do if he does something different than before." Reed began, not looking at Tony.

"Obviously. Which is why we have to…" he narrowed his eyes. "You want to make sure nothing will change."

"Yes, exactly. There's a serum that I've worked on that erases memories. If I can just alter it and have Loki fine tune it to the exact date and time, he won't remember anything and he'll wake up in bed like nothing ever happened."

"No," he growled.

"Tony, listen," Bruce sighed. "It's too risky—"

"No, it's not—"

"He's six, Stark. Do you really expect him not to spill? Or he might change something by just one action."

"He's me, Reed. I'm a genius."

"It's not fair to him! That's a lot of pressure, either way. I know you've always seemed like you can handle everything, but you're forgetting you're human and you mess up. Tony, him keeping those memories would be too hard. They'll confuse him."

"God, haven't you people watched Monsters Inc. or something? You know, leaving the kid alone, still letting it have rights—"

"That's a kid's movie. This is real," Bruce said firmly. "We have to, Tony. You can talk to him if you want."

"Reed, give us a minute." Tony's jaw clenched, motioning his head toward the door, and Reed shook his head and went upstairs. "No, Bruce."

"Is this about Howard? Or the company, and what happened to you?"

"Fuck, no. It's not."

"Oh? So you don't want him to know what you know and make sure you have an easier life? Avoiding the weapons? Not listening to your father? Catching Obadiah and altogether not getting kidnapped?" Bruce crossed his arms.

"No!" Tony threw up his hands. "I just want him to know that at least he'll be happy. It takes a while, but he will be. I will be."

"Be serious, Tony. He, you, will try to make it better. That's what you do. That's what you were fucking born to do. He's not going to stop because you told him to, since when do you even listen to yourself?"

"You can't erase his entire memory of this. What happens if that damn serum doesn't work and he doesn't remember anything at all? His entire life, gone?"

"Then help us fix it up. You can make sure that doesn't happen."

"Forget it. I like you, Bruce, you're my friend. But this? What you want to do? I'm not letting you."

"I don't want to, Tony. You should know that," Bruce said softly, reaching out to Tony, who jerked away. "I'm sorry, Tony."

"Yeah, whatever." He turned on his heel, to the stairs, passing Reed. "You can go back down. And you can leave tomorrow."

"What?"

"You're not needed. Sorry for the false alarm," he said coolly.

"Stark, I—"

"I'll arrange for a plane to pick you and Johnny up," he said, not looking back. When he reached the top of the stairs, he peeked out. Steve was sitting on the couch with Anthony beside him, and they were messing with a tablet that was displaying what Tony recognized as an art program that he'd created for Steve to use.

"What's that do?"

"It's a paint tool. See?"

"Why did you draw a bunny?"

Tony let himself be seen then, turning the corner. "Hey."

"Hi, Tony," Anthony said distractedly, still focused on the tablet.

"Did you sleep good? You better have. Those beds are expensive and I hope I didn't buy them for nothing."

"Mhm. Comfy."

"Okay. Well, good. Uh…." He turned. "Steve, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure." Steve stood and followed Tony to the kitchen, leaving Anthony on the couch with the tablet. "What's going on? You seem upset."

"Upset? Nope. Not at all. Right as rain, all that." Tony smiled. Okay, so it could be a good idea to tell Steve about Bruce and Reed's "project." There was a good chance that Steve would understand Tony's reasoning of why that's not a good idea, but then again there was also a possibility that Steve would agree with Bruce and Reed and he wasn't sure if he could handle that, because he'd be watching this, his time with Captain America and seeing how good he became, slipping away from his younger self like it never happened and it didn't seem fair because he could have done so much better and saved some pain and loneliness—

"_Tony._"

He jerked from his thoughts, realizing he'd faded off and probably had been staring at Steve blankly for some time. "Yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

Tony sighed, wishing he could just out and say what he needed to. He'd been good, so good, lately about telling what was wrong, and not hiding away and letting others figure him out. It was a little disconcerting that he was very strongly pushing back the urge to tell Steve about what Bruce and Reed were planning and how he wasn't going to allow it. "We need to go to the store."

"Store? Why?" Steve eyes roamed around the fully equipped kitchen in confusion.

"No, like…a toy store."

"Anthony told me he doesn't play with toys because your father said you couldn't." There was that look again, that pained, _'Oh, Tony' _face that he hated because ugh, pity.

"That's just what I said to everyone, because no, I wasn't allowed it, but I cheated. Not past seven, I got bored, but you know. Anyway, I had one thing that was my favorite, didn't care what changed as long as I had the thing and I lost it and he asked if he could find it and…"

"Bring it back with him." Steve finished. "Did you ask Bruce about it?"

Tony opened his mouth to say _no, _but _yes _came out. It didn't matter anyway. Tony was going to get Anthony back without anyone knowing beforehand, because Tony could not let himself watch the six year old version of him get his mind wiped.

"I guess we can, then. Johnny went down with the others to the beach, and I'm not sure how long they'll be there."

"No one will want to cook." Tony shrugged. "I can buy out a restaurant for a few hours, have a nice, private dinner."

"Tony, there's no point in that." Steve rolled his eyes.

"Except for showing me how awesome it is to be rich," Tony returned. "It's done. I'll get us a pizza place. Tell the others."

Steve must have decided not to bother to argue. "Okay. Why don't you get out the most kid-friendly car you have?"

"I don't have kid-friendly cars, Steve."

"Something as close as you can get, then," Steve said. "I'll get him ready and meet you outside."

Tony nodded and went down to the garage again, where Bruce and Reed were still working. They looked up at him and Bruce opened his mouth to say something, but Tony raised a hand to shut them up.

"Going to the store. We're going to a pizza place after if you want to come," he said curtly, getting into his Audi and reveling in the feeling of it roaring to life.

"Okay," Bruce said quietly, or maybe it wasn't quiet, Tony wasn't quite sure over the sound of the engine. Tony felt guilt tug at his gut, at how upset Bruce seemed, the way his shoulders hunched and his head was down. Bruce was a good guy, and knew why Tony had refused. Of course he did. Next to Steve, Bruce knew him better than anyone. He was trying to keep Tony safe, not purposely shoving him back into a hectic life.

Tony kept thinking about that as he revved the engine and shot out of the tunnel leading to the entrance of his mansion, and grinned proudly at Anthony's face lighting up.

"Whoa! That's an awesome car!" He ran forward, hands probing against the red, inspecting.

"_This _is the most kid-friendly car you could find?" Steve asked accusingly, crossing his arms. Okay, honestly, Tony didn't remember to think about safeness.

"Yes. Absolutely. The best one I could think of." He smiled innocently.

"I don't care. Can I sit in shotgun? Can I? Can I, please, Cap?" Anthony pleaded, pulling on Steve's hand.

"No," Steve said firmly.

"Aw, c'mon. It's not that unsafe."

"He's six, Tony!"

"And…?"

"He's sitting in the back." And that tone of voice left no room for argument if anything else did.

Anthony pouted for less than a second or two before leaping into the back seat, Steve going around to the passenger seat. "Can Uncle Clint come too?"

"He's busy, he'll meet at us at the pizza place for dinner, okay?"

"Okay," Anthony agreed and leaned forward in his seat. "Go fast."

Steve buckled his seat belt and motioned for Anthony to do the same. "No."

"You are such a party pooper, Steve," Anthony imitated Clint, grinning, and Tony snorted a laugh.

"Oh, just go," Steve grumbled, but he smiled, and the car took off.

They decided to skip out on the busy, crowded stores in hopes of avoiding any press and instead settled on going to a Wal-Mart that was close to being shut down for lack of business because this was Malibu and there were bigger and better places to go. Tony already had on sunglasses and he slipped on a handy sweatshirt tucked into the back seat, putting up the hood.

Steve's identity was safe enough and so was Anthony's, since he had been wearing his disguise. Tony sometimes regretted always flaunting himself way back when, and okay, sure, he did similar now but not as much. He liked his privacy now, especially since he had Steve and the other Avengers around.

Anthony practically sprinted ahead of them to the door, tugging it open and waiting for Steve and Tony to follow him before running off into the store.

"Did we just let a spoiled rich kid run free into a Wal-Mart?" Tony asked, immediately regretting this.

"It can't be that bad, right?"

* * *

Wrong. Tony had muttered that he hadn't been in a toy store very often. Steve learned the hard way that mature or not, Anthony was still a kid that acted like any other when in a place like this. Within twenty minutes of scurrying around trying to keep up with Anthony, Tony snatched out his Stark Phone and said he had to take a call.

"You're leaving me alone?" Steve said incredulously.

"Business matter, Steve. And pizza." Tony grinned devilishly. "Good luck!"

_No sex for him tonight, _Steve thought to himself, annoyed. He turned around where Anthony had been a second ago to find it empty. Damn. "Anthony? Where are you?"

"Here!" came a voice and Steve could hear the squeaking of his sneakers as he came around the corner. "Cap, come here. I need you to help me pick one out."

Anthony was reaching up on his tip toes in a car section, loaded with Hot Wheels big and small. "These are way better than the ones at home. Wait." He froze. "Can't have too many. Dad will find them."

"Why don't you get a very small one then?" Steve reached up far past Tony's head and took a small package of cars. "This one?"

"Okay," he said automatically, reaching for it, but he didn't look thrilled.

"Anthony, if you don't love it, you can tell me and we can pick one out that you really like," Steve said carefully.

Anthony hesitated, then looked up, his neck craning back and looking at the selections. "That one." He pointed to a red and gold colored car, not very big and not too small. Steve's lips twitched into a smile.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Anthony said slowly, looking at Steve in a way that sought approval. Steve nodded and took it off the handle, handing it to the boy. "There's one more thing I need to get."

"You know what it is?"

"Yeah. Follow me." Anthony darted to another aisle with Steve close behind, this one decorated with sports toys. He leaned down and started taking out balls in the front and putting them aside. He reached in and pulled out a Captain America toy. "Best one I could find and I hid it so I could get it later."

Hiding all emotion, Steve took it from Anthony and inspected it. It was a good model, not too detailed and not as modern as to raise suspicions. "It's great, bud."

"Yeah?" he grinned.

"Yeah. Are you ready to go?" he asked, giving the toy back to Anthony and holding out his hand.

Anthony slipped his hand into his, gripping his treasures tightly with his other arm. "Let's go show Tony."

"He'll approve, I know it."

They went to the checkout, where an older lady smiled at them as Anthony placed his things on the table. She looked up at Steve as she checked out the toys for them.

"Your boy?"

"No. He's uh, my nephew," he lied easily, squeezing his hand.

"Well, you're very good with him," she commented, still smiling, and finished putting the toys in a bag. "That'll be $12.95."

Steve paid and gave the bag to Anthony to carry, and they headed out the car.

As they were walking, Anthony remarked, "She's right, Cap. You should have kids with Tony."

"I don't think we _can_," he teased, and Anthony rolled his eyes.

"Not _that _way. But you could adopt someone. My mom was thinking of adopting before me, and then she said she didn't want any more kids. But she's pregnant again, so that didn't really work—"

Steve stopped in his tracks. "What did you say?"

"You can adopt a kid?" Anthony looked at him confusion.

"No, after that. Your mother is pregnant?"

"Uh-huh. 7 months, so pretty soon the baby will be here." He blinked. "I don't have a little brother or sister in the future?"

"No, I don't—" Steve's heart rate quickened. This could mean a various array of things, some good, most of them bad. "We need to talk about this later."

"Cap?" Anthony sounded frightened, and Steve tried to calm himself, mustering a smile.

"It's okay, buddy. It just surprised me. We'll talk and figure this out with Bruce and Tony, okay?"

"Okay," the boy said uncertainly and followed Steve the rest of the way without a word from either of them.

On the way back from the store, they went straight to the pizza place, where everyone else was waiting. Anthony went immediately to Clint and showed him his car, grinning madly. Steve noticed that Johnny and Reed were absent, while the rest of the Avengers minus Thor was there.

"I didn't think Johnny would miss out on pizza." Steve remarked to Tony. Tony shrugged.

"I think something came up."

They stood quietly for a minute, watching Anthony switch between each Avenger showing his car. Captain America, Steve noticed, was still tucked away safely in the car. He remembered, then, the pressing matter.

"Tony, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me," Steve said suddenly, leading Tony to a quiet area. "Please."

"Steve?"

"Was your mother ever pregnant after you?"

"_What?_" Tony exclaimed incredulously.

"Anthony said your mother is 7 months pregnant," Steve breathed, calming just slightly at Tony's absolute shock.

"Then he can't be from our past. I know for a fucking fact that my mother was never pregnant after me. She—" Tony shook his head. "No. He has to be from an alternate universe."

"Yeah. Something like that." He looked hard at Tony. "You're sure? No close call? No miscarriages?"

"Steve, babe, no. I promise. I would have remembered." Tony smiled shakily. "Can you imagine me having a little sibling? Me? I'd terrorize the kid."

"I think you'd be a good brother from an early start. Anthony seems excited."

"Anthony's a different Tony." He raised an eyebrow. "Let's eat and talk to Bruce later."

"Sounds good," Steve agreed, sneaking a kiss. "And after that…"

"Rogers, you sly dog," Tony murmured, looking past him with a smirk. "Children around. Two."

"Who's the second?" Steve asked, already knowing the answer.

"Barton."

* * *

Three hours later, Anthony was fast asleep in bed, in his pajamas and his new Captain America toy tucked safely beside him. His car was on the bedside table next to him.

Tony was leaning against the doorframe, watching Steve thread his fingers through the boy's hair. "When did he start needing you to put him to sleep?"

"He was pretty upset the first night," Steve said, remembering how Anthony had cried onto Steve's shoulder when he learned of the abuse. "He's used to his mother."

"That's different about him, too. My mom wasn't really affectionate in ways of kissing a boo boo better."

"What did she do, then?" Steve cocked his head.

"She would read famous poetry to me, telling me lessons of what they meant and how I can use them to help me. Especially after they realized I was a genius," Tony said fondly.

"And how young was that?" Steve asked, genuinely curious. He'd never asked, not really, when Tony's intelligence had been revealed.

"I'm not sure exactly. I think I was two when they suspected it, and I remember getting tested a lot when I was 3. That's when I started working with engines, and yeah, the whole built a circuit board at 4 thing."

Steve shook his head. "I can't imagine being in the public eye since birth. I'm barely used to Captain America being so famous, to have people stop in the street and stare at you when you're in costume."

"Yeah, you'll get used to it fast. You'll be signing those autographs like a pro soon enough." Tony said and tapped Steve's shoulder. "C'mon. Talk to Bruce, then bed."

Steve nodded, patting Anthony's shoulder one more time and going to Tony's workshop where Bruce and Reed were.

"Hey, Bruce." Tony greeted, and Steve frowned at the tone. It wasn't warm like Tony always spoke to Bruce. He looked at Tony questioningly, who shook his head and mouthed "later." "We've made a breakthrough."

"Steve told me about the baby." Bruce nodded. "Definitely alternate universe."

Tony squinted at him, lips pursed. "Are you going to do the thing?"

"What?"

Bruce smiled, albeit weakly. "No need now, right?"

"What thing?" Steve asked exasperatedly.

"Reed and I were making a serum that would rid Anthony of any memory of being sent to the future." Bruce admitted. "I didn't want to, but Reed said it was best."

"Rid Anthony of any memory of…" Steve repeated, "Bruce, you weren't actually going to do that."

"Anthony's a genius, and he would want to use what he knows now to change his future. Tony would change, and so would everything and everyone around him. I didn't want to Tony to lose anything he has now." Bruce shuddered out a breath. "I am sorry, Tony."

Tony waved a hand. "Not mad anymore. I'm a forgiving person."

"I'm going to pay for it later, aren't I?" Bruce gave a hint of a smile.

"Not subtly." Tony winked, and then glanced back at Steve. "That's why I was upset earlier."

"Why didn't you say something?" Steve asked, eyes narrowing.

"I just needed to think about it. I was going to tell you. It doesn't matter. No word from Thor about Loki, I assume?"

"No, no news. Do you even have any idea why Loki would bring a younger you from an alternate universe?"

"I think I'd have mentioned it earlier if I did." Tony looked at him with a "duh" expression. "To piss me off? 'Cause that worked."

"He likes mind games," Steve muttered. "This might be a trick of the game."

"A game of…what? What could be, what should be, what isn't?" Tony mused. "So far, the only different thing is my mother being pregnant. So, a life with me having a sibling. That would change a lot, I think."

"One thing changing everything." Bruce nodded. "Okay, let's assume this is a game of his. Does he expect us to win it?"

"But if it's a trick, doesn't he just get his enjoyment and then…poof?" Steve wondered. "Like nothing happened?"

"To only mess with me? He usually has a bigger game plan." Tony shrugged. "I don't know. I'd have to talk to him."

"So we wait for Thor?"

"We're going to have to, if we want to get anywhere." Bruce sighed, and Tony questioned just how long does it take for Thor to crawl under a bed and catch a god of mischief hiding.

* * *

His answer came a day later, after spending the day down at the sparse sandy beach at the bottom of the cliff, to the side. Tony didn't go down there much, but apparently _beach _had excited some certain members of his team and Anthony, expecting an awesome, Tony Stark style beach. Not true, Tony hadn't focused this mansion on the beach material. They wanted a nice beach, Tony had a long list of better ones worthy of awe.

Anthony made sandcastles. It was both hilarious and weird because wow, a Stark making sandcastles. Clint helped, and that made it even funnier.

Johnny got incredibly drunk and good thing he was a happy drunk because Steve looked ready to tear him to shreds. Thor threw him in the water at one point, and Anthony laughed for 5 minutes straight when Johnny heated up the water in annoyance and Clint ran out screaming that his ass was on fire.

Reed and Johnny were only staying to see Anthony off, since Tony wasn't as wary of Richard's intentions as he was before. He got a scrapbook-worthy (Pepper was making one, she told him, it's hidden in her office somewhere, full of blackmail photos) picture of Reed and Bruce laying under an umbrella, one of Clint running around holding his ass, and Natasha spitting out her drink because of a wayward beach ball. He may have also taken one of Anthony for safekeeping, but whatever. No one has to know.

All in all, it was a good day.

That night, Steve and Tony were entangled in blankets, curled around each other, when Tony heard the first burst of thunder. At first, he dismissed it, wanting to go back to his peaceful, post-sex slumber, but then it got louder and the lightning was almost unnatural and Tony knew enough that hey, Thor.

Steve jumped up, still butt naked, and told Jarvis to wake up Anthony and tell him to get dressed in the pair of clothes he was supposed to wear home. The green sweatshirt he'd came in was cut to pieces because the nests that he and Clint made, but the flannel pajamas were still there.

They dressed quickly and met the team downstairs. Anthony looked drowsy, slumped in Clint's arms, who looked just as half asleep. Johnny was missing, probably not particularly willing to get up, as was Reed and Bruce, awaiting Thor's arrival into the mansion.

"Did he find Loki?" Tony asked.

Natasha shrugged. "I'm not sure. I haven't seen him."

Right on cue, Thor strolled in with Loki in tow. Tony automatically scowled at him, and the god sneered right back.

"I have arrived back with my brother, friends," Thor said, a bit tiredly. "He says he does not plan to be hostile."

"Oh, good. Just in time for lovely explanations." He crossed his arms. "Care to explain why you brought a six year old me from an alternate universe?"

"Why should I tell you anything?" Loki raised a thin eyebrow, smirking.

"You were in my not-dream," Anthony pointed to him, frowning. "But you had a helmet."

Loki ignored the boy. "Truth is, this didn't go exactly according to plan."

"What, exactly, didn't?" Steve inquired, staring hard. Loki wasn't one to stand down from a glare, though, even if it was Steve's glare.

"Stop gazing at me like I am about to make you combust into dust." He rolled his eyes. "I am here willingly, not planning to kill you. Not today."

"Why did you do this, Loki?"

Loki shook his head. "'Tis early in the morning, yes? Dawn is rising. What do Midgardians drink in the morning? Coffee? Give me a moment. It's been a long trip. Drink…coffee. And get young Stark out of here."

"Brother…" Thor warned.

"_Not _your brother—" Loki snarled.

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it now and in front of Anthony." Natasha's nose wrinkled in annoyance.

"There are rules, dear Spider, to magic. Confidentiality matters. You understand, don't you? Go, coffee."

Tony glanced at Steve and Bruce, made a motion with his hand, and they nodded. "Clint, Nat, take care of Anthony and brew some coffee, yeah?"

As much as Tony didn't like it, he was now sitting in the living room with Loki silently sipping coffee, Steve fiddling with his hands in his lap, and Bruce sitting awkwardly while Thor stood watch next to the couch where Loki sat.

"Are you done?"

"No, but I don't think you're patient enough to let me finish," Loki sighed, setting down his mug. "Thor tells me you recognized the time symbol on young Stark's wrist, so you assumed it was your past self."

"Naturally."

"And you've figured out that our friend here is from an alternate reality?" He looked amusedly at Tony.

"Yeah. What kind of alternate are we talking about here? And why send a kid version?"

"Something went wrong with my work, which is not often. I was looking into different realities for…entertainment purposes, I assure you, and I came across a familiar Stark in one. This one, I thought, was particularly interesting. I had a nice chat with a much older version of _Anthony, _as you're calling him, at about your age." Loki smiled, if not a bit devilishly. "He didn't believe me that I had met you, an alternate, and that things are much different here but very much real, just as he and I."

"Okay, and the mistake was…what? Sending kid version?"

"Yes. Instead of sending current him, I sent him from the age he became…separated from your reality. When his life became alternate. I won't bother explaining that kind of complexity…"

Tony wanted to mention that he was perfectly capable understanding, fuck you very much, but he kept his mouth shut.

"What…what changed Anthony's life, then? His sibling?" Steve asked.

"Ah, yes. The big change. Leonard William Stark." Loki shook his head. "The opposite of you."

"You met…Leonard?" Tony asked, mind swimming with the thought of him having a brother. He'd never really imagined it, not really. It was never an option.

"Leo, as he prefers. The quiet genius, the brother in your shadow. His birth changed you, for better or worse you can decide. I don't really care. The point of this was to mess with the other Stark's head. Instead you ended up with a very confused child."

"So you're going to send him back?"

"Without any memories of this, yes."

Tony closed his eyes, heart dropping. Steve's hand found his and he gripped it tightly. "I don't suppose we can debate that."

Loki blinked. "Why does it matter to you? He's not part of your world."

"He's a kid with a harsh life. Can't blame a guy for feeling a little guilty for sending him back without any hope, any sort of comfort for his future." Bruce spoke up.

Loki huffed a little, flabbergasted. "I will never understand you. Well, send him back in. Let's get this over with."

"Whoa, there, Reindeer Games. Sit back down and finish that goddamn coffee. He's not going anywhere until…" Tony was at a loss. When? The situation was explained to Anthony? His memory would be cleaned anyway.

"Until what, Stark?" Loki purred.

"All right, asshole. Just…is there any way that Anthony can go back with his memory?"

"No," Loki said firmly.

"Loki, might you make an exception—" Thor began.

"Thor, you know as well as I do that there are procedures to be followed, especially when it comes to messing with these kinds of parallels."

"Isn't an alternate universe meant to be changed?" Tony glared.

"Oh, for the love of all that is…you want to alter his world. That is perfectly fine. But he has a decent life, mind you." Loki shook a long finger at him. "Wife, children, your captain lover the godfather of his children, I could go on."

"Wife?" Tony repeated, aghast. "_Kids?"_

"Oh, don't strain yourself thinking about it. Anyhow, do you still want to mess that up for him?" Loki asked. "Last chance."

"I—"

"It's okay, Tony," said a voice. Tony whipped around to see Anthony climb out of the _goddamn air vents, dammit Clint, that's your fault, _and hop onto the floor. "He can get rid of 'em."

"Anthony, buddy…" Steve said, sad and defeated. He knows it's not his choice to make, not his, or Tony's, or Loki's. It was Anthony's, because six years old or not, it's his life and his to shape.

"I wish I could remember you guys, but…" He gripped the marking on his wrist. "Maybe I'll see you anyway, you know, if Loki sends future me to here."

"Not likely." Loki snorted.

"Yes likely." Tony shot him a look.

"Then I wanna do it. He says I did okay." Anthony bit his lip. "But can I say goodbye first? And bring my toys?"

"Your…toys." Loki threw up his hands. "I really do not care."

Anthony walked over to Bruce and held out his hand. "You can say it's from…um, I don't know, anonymous? That I have to keep it a secret from who I got these from and I'll find out someday. I can do it. Deal? Can we do that?"

Bruce smiled softly and gripped his hand. "Deal."

Anthony grinned and then it faded as he turned to the rest. "It feels weird saying goodbye if I'm not even going to remember it."

"But we will." Steve walked up to the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. "We will remember and we'll be thinking of you, and your brother. Okay? Say goodbye for our sakes."

"Okay." His grin returned and he threw his arms around his neck tightly. "Thanks, Cap."

"You're very welcome." Steve smiled, and Tony left the room for Anthony to finish his goodbyes with Thor and he went to the kitchen where Natasha and Clint were waiting.

"Well?" Natasha asked, standing.

He smiled faintly. "Time to go."

Clint's face dropped. "Oh. Just like that, huh?"

"Just like that, ya big softie."

"Shut up," Clint grumbled and shoved past him, Natasha following suit, but she stopped and turned back to Tony.

"Are you okay?" _Stoic as ever, but still looking concerned, _he thought, _damn, she's good._

"Peachy." He shrugged a shoulder and smirked. "As per usual."

Natasha smiled ever so briefly at him and continued back toward the living room and Tony figured he was due to say goodbye, too.

Clint was hugging Anthony like a teddy bear, and Anthony was gasping "I can't breathe" when he let go. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, kid."

"I won't remember," Anthony laughed and let Natasha pick him up and fucking cuddle him and what the fuck, that's the most adorable thing Tony has ever seen from Nat, and for a split second he's nervous she can read minds because she's glaring at him over Anthony's head.

"Goodbye, кролик," she murmured.

"Are we ready?" Loki asked, face impassive. There was a box cradled in his arms, and he knew exactly what the package was.

"Yeah, just a minute." Tony leaned down on his knee and motioned for Anthony to come to him. Natasha put the boy down and he hesitantly went to Tony. "Bye, mini me."

Anthony reached out, as he did days ago, to touch the arc reactor. He rested his palm on it, and smiled at Tony. "I woulda been happy to turn out like you if I ever did, you know."

"Good to hear," Tony said and patted his cheek. "All right, scram. Be good to your brother."

Anthony snorted as he went to Loki's side. "This is me we're talking about." And well, that was good enough for Tony.

"Good luck, dear Anthony. We will meet again, someday, even if you don't remember us," Thor said in finality.

Steve came up next to Tony and squeezed his hand tightly. Tony watched as a bright, greenish light consumed Anthony and Loki in a swirl of energy. His ears roared with a sound he didn't know, and he realized his eyes closed. When he opened them again, both Loki and Anthony Edward Stark were gone.

* * *

Tony was glad to say even four days later back at the Stark Tower, Clint moped the most. He'd caught him on several occasions holding that stupid nest that Clint made with Anthony, the one the kid made on his own must have been put into the box with his toys.

To be honest, Tony still felt a little strange when he didn't hear a giggle or the sound of the kid running down the hallway or him talking to Clint at breakfast in the morning, the short term pattern already stuck to him. Steve seemed to be missing the kid too, from the way he brought him up a lot and was "not in the mood" for any sex at all.

He hoped this ended soon, that they could move on because hey, Tony Stark is right the fuck here.

Funny how it was impossible to think that Anthony was him and now it was impossible to think he _wasn't. _Not technically.

He can't wrap his mind around it.

"Tony?"

He looked up from his desk to Steve, and from the way he was dressed in sweats and a form-fitting t-shirt, he just came back from his morning workout.

"Hey. Wanna head up to breakfast?" He started to stand.

"In a minute." Steve halted him and pulled him out of the chair and whoa, okay, he's up against the wall and Steve is kissing him with those wonderful, wonderful lips of his… "I need to ask you something."

"If you're going to ask if you can kiss me again, then god yes," he breathed, trying to lean in again.

"No, listen." He put a finger to the man's lips. "When Anthony and I were walking from the store to the car, you know how the conversation of babies came up?"

"Babies?" Tony parroted, not following.

"I found out that Anthony's mother was pregnant when he told me you and I should…" he stopped, thinking.

"Should what? Fuck and get pregnant?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No, adopt. And it's too early to say anything definite now, but that made me think, you know, of maybe getting there, someday, when we're both ready. But baby steps, right?" Steve laughed shakily. "Okay, this isn't really a baby step."

"Steve, what the hell are you trying to get to?" _Is he asking if we can get a kid because I'm not the parental type, I'm not ready, I can't, I'd mess them up, I'd- I don't know, maybe if Steve was there, then maybe I can do it, but…_

"Tony. Tony, I'm trying to ask if you will marry me." Steve was beet red, hands fumbling with Tony's.

"Marry." Tony didn't comprehend, staring at Steve with wide eyes.

"Yes, husband and husband, wedding, the whole thing because Tony, I love you. I love you so much and I don't want to let you go. I don't care if—"

Fuck it. Steve's the best thing Tony's ever had, and he wouldn't let him go if it killed him, and—

Tony grabbed Steve's face and tugged him close. "Steve Rogers, I would like nothing more than to marry you."

Steve breathed out a laugh that was almost a sob and wrapped his arms around him and kissed him, hard, and it felt just as good as the first time they kissed, because they were both giddy with excitement, _holy shit they were getting married._

Tony decided this was the best happily ever after he was going to get, and that was just fine with him.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! **


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